All Of A Writer That Matters Is

The Musty Smell, The Bugs, The Lonliness, This Room, Which Is Part Of The Street Outside-this Is All I Want From Life.

I Want More Of This Feeling - Fire And Wings.

When He Talked His Eyes Went Away From Mine And Then He Forced Himself To Look Straight At Me And He Began To Explain And I Knew That He Felt Very Strange With Me And That He Hated Me, And It Was Funny Sitting There And Talking Like That, Knowing He Hated Me.

I Found When I Was A Child That If I Put The Hurt Into Words, It Would Go.

Now I No Longer Wish To Be Loved, Beautiful, Happy Or Successful. I Want One Thing And One Thing Only - To Be Left Alone.